


Antihistamine

by tinylilremus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, magnus bane being completely in love with alec lightwood and vice versa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 14:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12213042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinylilremus/pseuds/tinylilremus
Summary: Alec's first thought upon seeing the flowers is panic(Who left these? How did they get in here? Why would the intruder leave flowers of all things?), but when he turns off his Shadowhunter brain long enough to take a look at the card, he's pleasantly surprised to find that the mysterious flowers are from Magnus. It's the most thoughtful, beautiful gift anyone has ever given him.Unfortunately, because the universe is cruel, he’s also deathly allergic to them.





	Antihistamine

Alec knows he’s supposed to be working. He knows that as the new Head of the Institute he’s supposed to be setting an example of productivity and dedication to the task at hand.

But the vase of flowers he finds sitting on his desk that morning throws him completely off-kilter.

His first thought upon seeing them is panic _(Who left these? How did they get in here? Why would the intruder leave flowers of all things?),_ but he turns off his Shadowhunter brain long enough to take a look at the card and is pleasantly surprised to find that it’s from Magnus.

_Hey you._

_I hope you don’t mind the Downworlder intrusion. I was in and out in the blink of an eye. These are just to say that you’re on my mind. In fact, you’re somewhat of a permanent feature there now._

_I love you._

_\- M x_

_P.S. Dinner at my place, 7pm? Dessert and entertainment to follow? ;)_

It’s impossible to stop the enormous grin that has taken over his features.

Alec has never imagined himself to be a romantic person, either through knowing himself too well or not knowing himself well enough, but the card and the sight of the bold, multi-coloured blooms in the varnished dark wood vase fill him with such a sudden rush of giddy happiness that he has to concede that maybe he _is_ as ridiculous as Clary or Simon.

As he closes his eyes for a moment to take in the myriad of scents, he concedes that maybe being ridiculous is just a side-effect of being in love with Magnus Bane.

Pushing through the sudden desire to blow off the mountain of paperwork on his desk to spend the day in his boyfriend’s warm and brightly lit apartment (he’s never been a fan of the dark and dank rooms of the Institute), Alec sits down and dutifully begins reading through the tedious reports on the Institute’s various research efforts and the Clave’s damage control after Valentine’s latest (and hopefully final) attack. Unbidden, his eyes keep darting back up to the flowers and though he tries to convince himself that it’s because their bright colours and sweet perfume are a distraction, he can’t deny that the real reason is that he’s struggling to believe that they’re really there. That he’s actually been sent flowers and that he has it in neat black-and-white script that at this moment, somewhere in New York, his favourite person in the world is thinking about him.

After making sure that there is no one outside his office who might see, Alec takes a photo of them and slides his phone into his pocket guiltily as if he used it to commit a crime rather than the completely reasonable activity of taking a photo of the beautiful flowers he’d been given by his boyfriend.

The headache starts about five reports in and grows steadily worse. He tries to shake it off, to pretend it’s not there, but it pounds behind his eyes, pulling his focus and making him read the same line about three or four times. _It’s probably just tension,_ he tells himself, and gets up from his desk to stretch. Strangely, he stumbles as he makes his way to the other side of the room and his head feels like it’s been stuffed with thick fabric.

When his throat begins to feel tight and nose begins burning, Alec knows that something is really wrong. He pulls his Stele from his belt and tries to inscribe the Iratze rune, but his hand is shaking too much to trace it accurately. Instead, he begins stumbling towards the infirmary, wondering how on earth he’s going to make it there in the state he’s in.

Like a godsend though, Isabelle finds him about halfway up the hallway. He only vaguely registers her asking him what’s wrong in a panicky voice.

“Dunno. Infirmary,” he rasps, gesturing vaguely to the other end of the hallway.

“I’ve got you.” She throws his arm around her shoulder, taking most of his weight and the two of them stagger down the hallway together. Even with Isabelle moving Alec along as fast as she can, it takes them twice as long to get to the Infirmary than it usually would and Alec’s vision is starting to go hazy as breathing becomes more difficult.

They’re barely through the door when Isabelle starts explaining the situation to a nurse attending to a bed on the other side of the room. The nurse, Sister Rea, immediately shoulders Alec’s other arm and leads him to the nearest bed.

“It looks like an allergic reaction. Nothing out of the ordinary, but we’ll need to act quickly.” She makes her way to a cabinet on the far side of the room and moments later, there’s a sharp prick in Alec’s arm. It’s not long after that that he feels his airways open and as he takes a few deep breaths, he feels his head clear. “I’ll still need to administer more medication, and you best believe you’re on bed rest for the rest of the day, head of the institute or not, but you’ll be glad to hear that you shouldn’t suffer any lasting effects.”

Sister Rea makes her way back to the cabinet, presumably to prepare Alec’s second dose.

“By the angel, Alexander Lightwood, you scared me,” Isabelle says, punching the shoulder that hasn’t been injected. “What the hell did you do to yourself?”

“I don’t know,” says Alec, truthfully. “I was just getting through my reports when I started feeling weird. It came completely out of nowhere.”

“And you can’t remember eating or drinking anything different to what you usually do this morning?”

“I had the same breakfast you did.”

“That’s really strange,” says Isabelle, perching on the edge of Alec’s bed. “There wasn’t anything weird about the reports? No traces of foreign substances on them or anything? I know that a few of the Downworlder reports sometimes come with … _interesting_ side effects.”

“No, there was nothing like that. It was just another boring Tuesday,” Alec replies. Then sudden realisation hits him. “Unless…”

“What?”

“There were… uh, there were flowers on my desk this morning.”

Alec regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth. Izzy’s eyes glitter with humour and interest and he can feel the colour flooding into his cheeks.

“From _Magnus_?” she grins.

As Alec’s blush deepens, Isabelle laughs and shoves his shoulder.

“So you’re not a complete hardass! I knew there was a gooey sentimental centre in there somewhere!”

“Don’t be a pain, Izzy.” Alec rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now too.

“So tell me _everything_ ,” says Isabelle. “Was it a big bouquet? Was there a note? What kind did he get you?”

“I don’t know – the colourful kind that smells nice,” shrugs Alec. “I was too surprised by their presence to analyse and catalogue each plant.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouts. “You don’t even have a vague idea of what they were?”

“I’m pretty sure that there were… hold on, I’m being dumb.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, opens his photos and hands it to Isabelle.

“Yeah, I can see what your problem might be,” smiles Isabelle, pointing to the offending flowers. “Tulips. They’re absolutely beautiful, and these red ones mean a declaration of love, but I’m deathly allergic to them and I’m pretty sure that’s what happened to you too. Many horrific first dates have taught me to be upfront about that.”

“Huh. Well I guess you learn something new every day,” shrugs Alec. As Isabelle hands him back his phone, he looks at the photo again. _Red tulips mean a declaration of love._ He knows Magnus loves him – he wrote that on the card – but there’s something wonderful in the thought that Magnus chose these flowers specifically to say it again. “You really think he was trying to say that? With the tulips I mean.”

“Sure,” says Isabelle. “Magnus doesn’t strike me as the type of person who does things unintentionally and all the other flowers he’s chosen seem to add up. See, the yellow ones mean ‘there is sunshine in your smile’, the stock flowers mean ‘you will always be beautiful to me’, these ones – the yellow lilies – mean that he feels like he’s walking on air when he’s with you and the ferns mean magic and fascination. Put that all together and it comes out as a pretty strong message: the boy is crazy about you.”

Alec’s heart is beating so loudly that he’s sure his sister can hear it. These flowers are the most beautiful, thoughtful gift he’s ever been given and because the universe is cruel, he’s allergic to them.

“I’m going to need to give you another jab,” says the nurse, returning with a large needle. “This one knocks you out pretty quickly though, so you might want to get comfy.”

Isabelle slides off the bed and gives Alec a small peck on his forehead.

“I’ll let Magnus know you say thanks,” she assures him. “You just focus on getting better.”

“Thanks, Izzy,” he says, his face screwing up in momentary pain as the needle goes into his arm.

He’s asleep before she leaves the room.

***

Alec wakes up warm and comfortable to the sensation of circles being softly traced onto his knuckles.

“Izzy?” he asks, slowly opening his eyes and shutting them again against the harsh light.

“Would you be disappointed if it turned out to be me instead?” says an amused voice from next to him.

_Magnus._

Alec gives the hand tracing his knuckles a squeeze and makes a more concentrated effort to open his eyes.

“Two Downworlder invasions in one day?” he smirks sleepily up at his boyfriend. “People might talk.”

“People do precious little else,” laughs Magnus, leaning over to kiss Alec. Pressing another softer kiss to his forehead, he adds, “Sorry for nearly killing you this morning.”

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t know.” Alec sits up and gestures for Magnus to join him on the bed. As Magnus obediently settles down against Alec’s chest, Alec kisses his hair. “They were beautiful and I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank you enough.”

“This is a good start.” Magnus runs a gentle hand up and down Alec’s knee and lower thigh. “I don’t know if you know what I was saying with them, but I meant all of it.”

“Izzy helped me with the flower meanings,” says Alec, wrapping an arm around Magnus and threading their fingers together, “and I don’t have a creative way to say it back, but you too. All of it. The sunshine and walking on air and that you’ll always be beautiful to me. You’re just… you’re everything. I love you.”

“I love you too, Alexander.”

They lie like that for a long time: Magnus’ warm frame pressed against Alec’s chest and their breathing rising and falling together. Alec loses himself in the pure bliss of it and almost falls asleep until he jerks awake in realisation.

“Magnus, the dinner –“

“Can be put off until another time. You’re convalescing.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to convalesce far better with you in your comfortable king-sized bed than in this cramped and noisy thing,” says Alec, bouncing the bed with a loud metallic squeak for emphasis. He leans forward and kisses the edge of Magnus’ ear just below the ornate silver dragon that curls around it and whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”

“Gladly,” smirks Magnus, hopping gracefully up from the bed and stretching out a hand for Alec to take. From the catlike gleam in the warlock’s eyes, Alec gets the feeling that convalescing is the last thing that will be on their minds when they arrive home.


End file.
